I'm Fighting My Friend
by 6Phantom6
Summary: Basically, a 'what-if' scenario in which somehow Chris was catapulted into a toxic waste puddle instead of the Latrines in 'Revenge'. Chef's the star this time! Let's just hope he survives.
1. Chapter 1

A story of Chef, and freaky stuff. I can't write anymore. Someone end me.

All characters belong to Total Drama, Jennifer Pertsch, Tom McGillis, and Fresh TV. I only own Lily (I swear I won't turn it into a ship fic on purpose!)

/

"Hatchet," A doctor said, gently shaking the other man's shoulder, "Hatchet?" Chef Hatchet suddenly sprang into action as he pinned the doctor to the floor, keeping a firm grip on his neck. "Mr. Hatchet…please!" The doctor croaked out.

"Oh, sorry," The ex-marine said as he let go of him, "Old habits die hard."

"Dully noted." The doctor said, rubbing his neck, "We've got him stable." Chef Hatchet felt a little relief wash over. "He'll live, but…" He said, but stalled.

"But what?" The larger man growled, "What the hell's wrong with him?!"

"Your friend is suffering through a horrific mutation," The doctor explained, keeping his eyes on his clipboard, "Nothing too life threatening, just life altering."

"How bad?" Hatchet asked. The doctor opened his mouth to explain, but closed it again, looking back at his notes and then to Hatchet again. "Spit it out!" The larger man yelled as he picked the medical professional by the lapels of his coat, "How bad is he!?"

"I can't explain it…" The doctor said, breaking eye contact, "He's going through it as we speak."

"Show me." Hatchet growled.

"I advise against that." The smaller man answered.

"Show. Me." The ex-marine ordered.

"Sir, I really don't think you should see your friend in such a state." The doctor tried to reason, "I mean…I had a hard time standing there, and I've seen the victims of car accidents!"

"You better show me what's happening to Chris," Hatchet threatened, "Or you'll be eating through a straw in your neck!"

"Okay!" The doctor squeaked, "Fine, I'll show you!" The two men then walked through the double doors, the doctor fumbling with a key card to unlock the door beyond that. "Your friend is still exhibiting a bit of radiation," The doctor explained as he slid the card through the reader, "So you'll have to wear a hazmat suit."

"I already knew that!" Hatchet barked as they entered a locker room.

"Did your friend know that he was operating on a radioactive island?" The doctor asked as he took a hazmat suit out.

"Yeah," Hatchet admitted, "But he didn't know where else to host the island! Or didn't care; I just follow and do what I'm told."

"You need a better friend," the other man said, "That, or get out of television."

"You try quitting when you're bound to a contract!" The ex-marine said as he slipped on the headgear.

"Whatever…" The doctor uttered as he and Chef entered a chamber, "Contracts are just words on paper." The two waited as they were decontaminated, watching people in hazmat suits on the other side walk to and fro with something in their hands. The spraying finally stopped and the door opened.

Chef couldn't help but look around the room; it looked more like it belonged in a warehouse than in a hospital. It was large enough to hold a 747, holding many patients in thick, glass containers instead. Various beeps could be heard from EKGs and Cardiograms, all in various tempos and volumes. "Why is he here?" Chef couldn't help but ask, "Why are all these people here?"

"This is a special ward for those affected with toxic products and byproducts," The doctor explained, "They either could decompose into a mush or mutate into some hideous creature. Whatever the case may be, they are too dangerous to be around the other patients." A loud commotion was heard as several persons ran to glass container, shouting orders. "Guess one's melting now." The doctor commented.

"Will you just show me to Chris?" Chef asked, feeling a little sick.

"Don't you wanna see a man melt?" The professional offered, "It's kinda neat."

"Just take me to Chris," Hatchet said, "Before I puke."

"Okay, okay." The doctor said as they walked away. Chef dared to look back at the scene, looking away as a hand splattered on the glass, leaving a flesh-covered smear as it trailed back down. The two walked through a row, exposing Hatchet to mutated patients of all varieties.

"You said he was mutating right now, right?" Hatchet asked, trying not to lock eyes with the patients.

"Yeah," The doctor said, "We had to put him in an extra-large case." The image of Dakota flashed before Hatchet's eyes, remembering how bad her mutation was. "Not only that," The professional continued, "But we had to call a few members of animal control."

"Why?" Hatchet dared to ask. The doctor didn't answer as the two stopped in front of a glass chamber large enough to hold an elephant. He jerked a thumb, and Hatchet saw the reason why. In the middle of the chamber was Chris, holding a hospital bed over his head. "Oh…" He uttered as his partner threw the bed against the glass, barely causing a scratch.

"These little chambers are strong enough to stand against a tank shot," the doctor boasted, "So we don't have to worry about break outs." But Hatchet ignored him as he walked up right to the glass, watching Chris as he furiously kicked and punched at his chamber walls. He noted that Chris looked to be his height, maybe a little taller. "Hey, get the hell away!" The doctor said as he tried to pull Hatchet away.

"Can I go inside?" Hatchet asked.

"You nuts?" The doctor spat back, "You're gonna get ripped in half!"

"He's still my partner," The ex-marine said, "He'll listen to me."

"He ain't like a puppy you had back home," The doctor reason, "As said, he's mutating right now. Usually, its human reasoning that goes first and then the whole body goes with it. There's a big chance that you'll get caught when that happens, and you go from 'friend' to 'chew-toy'!"

"I gotta try." Hatchet uttered, making the doctor grunt and walk away. He turned to see the doctor talking to another person, losing interest and turning back to Chris again. He watched as his partner staggered to an opposite side until he collapsed on the floor. He felt a hand on his shoulder, making him look to see the doctor had returned with another man holding a tranquilizer gun.

"You're lucky," The professional said, "They'll allow you in there for roughly fifteen to twenty minutes. This guy will pull you out when time's up, or when things go south."

"I have to go in there one on one." The ex-marine stated. The doctor shot a look at the man, and he nodded.

"Fine." The doctor surrendered. The trio then walked over to an extension on the case, where the doctor slid a different card through the reader. The door opened and Chef went inside. The first thing he noticed was that the case was sound-proof; all that was heard was Chris' whimpering.

"Chris?" He called, "Chris, it's me."

"Ha…Hatchet?" Chris croaked. Chef walked cautiously to his partner, keeping his movements slow.

"Yeah, it's me." He answered, "Don't freak out."

"It hurts…" The patient sobbed, "I can't take it!"

"Settle down," Hatchet uttered as he knelt, "It'll be okay." But he regretted those words in an instant. Chris's skin was forfeiting to forest-green scales, protruding through the flesh in patches. He still had a little hair left, but Hatchet could see something else growing under the scalp: a pointed bump protruded through a patch of hair.

"Please," Chris moaned, "Hatchet please…I can't be a monster!"

"You'll be okay…" Chef tried to soothe, "You're not gonna be a monster."

"I'm just some freak-show to these bastards!" He growled as he tried to roll over.

"Calm down Chris." Hatchet said as he sat his partner up, "It'll be okay. You just need to calm down. There's no need to act this way; you're acting like Ezekiel." Hatchet gasped at his realization. Chris glared at him, baring his newly developing fangs.

"Ezekiel isn't in here." He growled, "I am. Someone threw me into that toxic barrel. He got lost in a plane. So why the hell am I here while he's not?!"

"I'm sorry about that." The ex-marine quickly uttered, but Chris let out a snarl, silencing the other man. "Look, the doctors are doing the best they can," Hatchet said, "But you're not gonna get better if you keep acting like this!" Before Chris could retaliate, he cried out, hands reaching to Hatchet's suit. Hatchet pulled his partner close so his head would rest on his broad shoulder, feeling Chris' hands grip handfuls of his suit.

"Make it stop!" He screamed, "MAKE IT STOP!"

"It will pass!" Hatchet assured, "Just hold on!" But Chris buried his face into his shoulder, screaming muffled by fabric. The sounds of cracking made Chef look to see Chris' legs starting to twist around each other, quickly turning his gaze away. 'This is worse than I thought…' he thought as he stroked his partner's back, 'How in the hell am I gonna get him back to normal?' Suddenly, he noticed that Chris stopped screaming, yet the sounds of cracking bone were still heard. He gently jostled his shoulder, asking, "Chris, are you alright? Chris?"

The brunette looked up at his friend, tears slipping down his face. But what scared Chef is that a smile graced his friend's lips; a small, genuine, sad smile. "Chef…" he uttered, "Do you know that trick?"

"Wh-what trick exactly?" He asked, cursing himself for showing fear.

"You know what trick I'm talking about," Chris said quietly, "That trick that you can do…that one you told me about…that one you learned when you were fighting overseas." Chef widened his eyes, his breath hitched in his throat.

"Chris, no," he uttered as he let his friend go and scooted away, "No, I'm not gonna do it!"

"You're running out of time," Chris purred as he struggled to sit himself up right, "They're gonna take you, and I will never see you again. I'm going to rot for the rest of my days; going to be poked and prodded by day, left alone in this cage at night. That's worse than death in my opinion…and you're gonna let me suffer through that?"

"Chris, will you listen to yourself?!" Chef shouted, "Look, just be patient and let the nice doctors help you. You'll be better in no time, and everything will go back to normal!"

"The hell are you talking about?" His partner calmly asked, "You're talking like I have a broken leg. Look at me; I'm a monster. Nothing will ever be the same again. Look, if you have a hard time doing it, let's play pretend. Pretend I'm one of the guys in your platoon that just lost both of his legs due to stepping on a land mine. I'm in pure agony here, Hatchet; do it."

But before Hatchet could answer, the door opened and the man with the tranq gun appeared, pulling him away. "Time's up." He uttered, "Come on."

"Wait, hold on." Chef uttered, but the man kept pulling him back.

"I said time's up," The man answered, "Any longer, and you're gonna get sick. Besides, your friend is slipping." The two exited the chamber, people on the other side rushing over to the two.

"Do you feel okay?"

"Has your suit been punctured?"

"What was it like?!"

"Did he bite you?"

Chef growled as he shoved past the questioning professionals, rooting around until he found the doctor from before. He picked him up and said, "You better get him back to normal," he threatened, "Or I will claw down your throat, little man."

"Are you crazy?' The doctor chuckled, "We would be lucky if we could keep him sane. He'll never get back to normal!"

"Then try damn it!" Chef yelled, "Fucking try!"

"Look," The doctor said as he adopted a serious tone, "To get him back to normal is like trying to fix Chernobyl. It's gonna take a long time, and it will take a ton of money. And I doubt you have a few million dollars lying around in your hovel. Besides, it's gonna be risky; off the top of my head, we'll probably have to replace the whole body! So let's be reasonable; we're doctors, not miracle workers. And besides, he was a terrible person; more good than harm by keeping him here."

"He's also my friend." Chef uttered before dropping the man and storming off.

/

To be continue


	2. Chapter 2

All characters belong to Total Drama, Jennifer Pertsch, Tom McGillis, and Fresh TV. I only own Lily (I swear I won't turn it into a ship fic on purpose!)

/

Chef snorted as he woke up, nearly tipping over the chair he slept in. "What time is it?" He muttered as he reached into his pocket and pulled a cell phone out. The time and date on the little screen said, '8: 30 p.m., May 26, 2013'. "A whole year," he breathed out, "damn…" He stood up from the kitchen table and walked into his living room. It was dark, but he could see well enough to make his way to the light switch. But when he flicked it on, the area remained dark. "Dang it," he cursed, "I know I paid on time…" He opened the door to his apartment and found that the whole building was dark, making him realize either the power is out, or a fuse was blown.

"Mr. Hatchet, is that you?" A voice asked, making him look around to see a figure with a lit candle approach him.

"Yeah Lily," he answered, "Is the whole building out of power?"

"More like the whole city," she answered as she scratched her head, "I think some bozo downtown hit a transformer."

"Man," Hatchet groaned, "And the season finale was gonna air tonight!"

"You mean of '_The Daring and Stupid_'?" Lily asked, "I'm kinda bummed myself; I wanted to know who Alexia's brother three times removed was."

"So," He uttered, "Wanna come in?"

"Sure," She accepted as the two entered, "No use sitting alone in the dark." As he closed the door, the young girl set the candle on the coffee table, lighting the room in a dull glow.

"Want something to drink?" He asked.

"I couldn't trouble you." She answered.

"You'll take one," he said, "Even if I have to get a funnel." He took a quick look at her and went to the kitchen. He mused that she couldn't be any older than twenty-three, with long black hair bound in a braid. He recounted that he met Lily in less than half a year when he moved into an apartment in Ottawa. He wanted to move to try and relax during his time off. He couldn't help but remember when he first met her; a pale girl in horn-rimmed glasses standing there with a smile on her face and a basket filled with goodies. From then on, it was a relationship of a naïve girl trying to bond with a living statue; either being invited to her apartment, or let her into his. He found her annoying, but he couldn't push her away or deny her invites for coffee. He sighed as he pulled a can of soda out, thinking, 'I'm using her to forget.'

"Hope you don't mind warm soda." He uttered as he handed the younger girl a can.

"Nah, it's alright." She answered as she carefully pulled the tab. He took a seat next to her on the couch, holding the slightly warm can his palm.

"Hey," He spoke up, "You kinda remind me of Zoey."

"Zoey?" Lily spoke, "Is she an old girlfriend of yours?"

"Nah," He answered, mentally sighing in relief, "Just somebody I somewhat knew."

"Oh," She answered, "But she has to be somewhat relevant to you, since you remembered her name."

"Let's just say," Chef uttered, "She's no one that special. Just someone I knew."

"Oh," She said, staring back at her can, "Okay." Silence filled between them, barely subdued by the ticking of the wall clock. Chef took a quick glance at her, seeing her tap her thumbs against the can, before looking away and trying to find something else to stare at. Shadows wobbled with the flame, distorting the objects attached to them.

"I'll go open a window." He uttered as he stood up and walked to the back, pushing up the window and sticking his head out. Lily was right as he saw the whole city was pitch black, barely lit by the moon over head. A slight breeze was wafting against his skin, sending a shiver despite it being summer.

"Guess you're right," he said as he pulled away, "The whole city's pitch black!"

"It's kinda scary," She said as she joined him, "Kinda like those science fiction movies when the whole city loses power before the aliens come and invade."

"Yeah," he admitted, "Or a monster…" He tensed, rubbing his arms.

"Are you okay?" Lily asked.

"No," Chef admitted, "I'm just getting some bad memories from this…"

"Fear of the dark?" She asked.

"Kinda…" he answered.

"You wanna talk about it?" She offered.

"Nah," He declined, "I don't wanna drag you into this."

"I don't mind." Lily said.

"Let me start with a question then," Chef began, "Have you heard of a show called Total Drama Island?"

"Not really…" She admitted, "I heard people talking about it, but I haven't really checked it out. I was busy at that time. It was that reality show with teenagers, right?"

"Yeah." Chef answered.

"What about it?" Lily asked.

"Well, I was on it," He said, "I worked on it as…well…the side kick. But anyway, me and my old partner worked on that show, and the next season, and the season after that, and the season after that. And there are more seasons to come; filming starts sometime this summer."

"Quite an interesting life," She commented, "But how does the dark connect with your job?"

"Before I moved here," Chef began, "I was working on the fourth season. Unfortunately, my partner thought it would be a great idea to host the show on an island contaminated with toxic waste. For the most part, everything worked out okay; barely a contestant mutated. That is, until there were four contestants left. One of those little bastards set a trap, and my partner fell for it." He paused and sighed, gritting his teeth. He felt a small hand sneak into his large one, giving an assuring squeeze.

"He was catapulted into a puddle of toxic waste," he continued, "Bounced out and landed in a barrel of the stuff. The medics rushed him to the hospital, and I was forced to wait for a good three hours. When I was allowed to see him…it wasn't good…"

"What happened?" She asked.

"He was already mutating," He said, "He was almost as tall as me when I got to see him. Spikes, claws, scales; I even saw his legs twist like a pretzel! But that's not what got me…" He stopped again and swallowed, trying to calm himself. "He wanted me to kill him," he continued, "Use an old technique. I refused, trying to coax him to rethink. But I was escorted out before I could say anything else."

"Did you see him again?" Lily asked.

"No," Chef said, "They wouldn't let me back in. They wouldn't even tell me how he's doing; they basically turned my partner into a dirty secret. The producers aren't any better; they reshot the episode and finished the season with some stand-in named Christian, acting like nothing ever happened!" He grunted, and closed his eyes, uttering, "Sometimes, I would lay awake at night, remembering that conversation, and wondering if I made the right choice. Sometimes, I would dream of him, screaming at me, saying I was a bastard of a friend for letting him live."

"Hatchet," she cooed, "I don't know what to tell you, but I'm sure he holds no anger at you. He's probably waiting for you back there."

"It's been a year," He said, "He probably dead by now, or forgotten about me. I'll never know; I might be alone all over again."

"You're not alone," Lily coaxed, "You got me."

"You don't wanna be friends with an old soldier," Chef uttered bitterly, "And especially a failure of a friend."

"And yet I'm here," She reminded, "I listened to your story because I want to help. I know I will never replace your friend in any way, but I am here to be a shoulder to cry on. That hand to hold. But I'll understand if you don't want me around; I've been told I am annoying."

"Truth be told," He admitted, "You are annoying. I knew you were annoying, and yet I still let you into my apartment for a chat or two. I still came over when you invited me to watch some TV. Heck, I accepted your invite to a gemstone expo, and I don't care about some shiny rocks!"

"At least you're honest," she said with a smile, "I'm glad to have met you, Mr. Hatchet."

"Same here Lily," he said, "same here."

/

Later, after Chef fished out a radio, the two waited in dull light as Chef turned the knob slowly as Lily manipulated the antenna. "Remember," He said, "Slow, steady, and try not to hit my head."

"Got'cha…" she said as she carefully turned the metal stick. Suddenly, static started to give into a conversation, prompting the two to stop and for Chef to turn up the volume.

"…And into the third hour of the Ottawa power-outage," A female reporter said, "Workers are still trying to find out the cause."

"That long?" Chef commented, "What are these slow-pokes doing?!"

"Currently, most major buildings are running on backup generators," The reporter continued, "However, several generators have already run out of fuel. What is worse is that more fuel cannot be retrieved due to the lack of power. But there is good news as several workers of said buildings donated their car batteries and gasoline to try and aid their power needs."

"Would that even work?" Lily asked, prompting Chef to shrug.

"We will now turn over to my partner Nick for a crime report." The female said.

"Thank you Samantha," A male answered, "I come to you with an urgent message. It has been reported that several youths have been murdered. As of now, only four victims were found; two in a park, one in Savana hotel, and one inside a robbed electronic store. All of the victims were crushed to death in a manner that police speculate to be caused by a large snake. The only names released were that of two makes found in the park; Scott Green, age 16 and Duncan Tanner, age 17."

"He can't mean those two…" Chef uttered, shaking his head, "No way."

"You knew them?" Lily asked.

"Scott and Duncan were contestants of 'Total Drama'." He explained, "But what would they be doing here?! I know damn well those two don't live in Ottawa!"

"You did say that filming may start sometime this summer," She reminded, "So maybe they flew in."

"No one was able to give as description of the assailant," Nick reported, "But members of the hotel have heard screaming on the floor of where one murder occurred, and may have heard the assailant on the fire escape. To all members of the public, please keep your doors and windows locked tonight, and do not go outside, even if the power returns. If the assailant comes to you, do your best to escape, and find a police officer. We hope you remain safe this evening; back to you, Samantha."

"This is unbelievable..." Chef sighed as he settled into the couch, "I bet those two other victims were 'Total Drama' contestants too."

"It might be a crazed fan," Lily suggested, "Someone who loves or hates the show…or those contestants. But the way they were murdered; 'caused by a large snake.'?"

"My best bet is an anaconda," He said, "Had to deal with one when we shot an episode in the Amazon. But who would lug that big thing around Ottawa?"

"I'm just scared at the thought," She said, drawing her legs close, "A snake crushing people until they're jelly…"

"Anyway, I want to see for myself." He said as he turned the radio off and stood up.

"But the report says we should stay inside," Lily reminded, "And it's unsafe to drive when there's no electricity!"

"I didn't say you had to come," Hatchet said, "Besides, I can handle it. I fought in total darkness before, I can do it again." He pulled a flashlight and his keys out of a drawer and headed to the front door. "You can stay here," he said, "Just don't go through my closet; I have a lot of ugly stuff in there."

"Wait," she said, standing up, "I…I'll come with you!"

"You sure?" He asked, "You're the one that wanted to stay inside."

"Well," Lily said, fidgeting, "I want you to stay inside, but I don't want you hurt either! If someone hurts you, you need someone to drive you to at least a first aid station! Or at least, you need back up."

"Fine," He surrendered, "But I'm not saving your butt if you get your foot caught or something!"

"Message received." She answered, blowing out the candle.

/

To be continue


End file.
